Diary of a Crazy Person
by RippedMyPants918
Summary: Evan Parker, a witch at fifteen, has the perfect life. Great friends, great school, and great parents. But then there are the minor problems: the big knickers, the blue legs, and the retarded cat next door. Set in the format of the 'Georgia Nicolson' book
1. Perverted Cats Like To Hump Trees

"Diary of a Crazy Person" 

July 31st 

6:30 a.m. 

Sometimes I wonder what the big fuss is about cats. Most of them are very mean and territorial, which I find extremely annoying, and some of them are stupid, retarded, perverted freaks like the one next door. 

Mrs. Next Door's stupid cat is the reason I'm up at 6:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. That cat snuck into our front yard and started humping our willow. Poor willow, it's not your fault you're being used as a sex object by the cat next door. 

I wonder though, how I managed to do what I did next. I got out of bed, put on my slippers, and walked outside for all in the world to see in my Little Mermaid knickers. Now, you probably didn't there were Little Mermaid knickers, but they are, they are limited edition ones. Mum told me that I should put them in a Safeway bag or something, and keep them safe, just because it was one of ten in the *whole world.* Screw that, the undies were comfy as hell, even though they are rather large. 

All right, so here I am on our front lawn wearing gigantic knickers, and I look at the perverted freak, and before the fool could even realise what was happening he was back on his side of the fence. That's right, I threw him over the fence, you would that was reasonable right? I mean, it wasn't like I tossed him like a basketball. Actually. it was a lot like that. 

Now, remember I'm still on the front lawn in my big knickers when Mrs. Next Door comes out and starts yelling at me. What is this for? Did she not see that I did the entire street's tree population a big favour? Well, it turns out she didn't and all she was worried about was her, '...tiny, little bubbly wubbly..." Little? Did she not see that thing *humping* the tree a few minutes ago? Nope, she's still worried about her stupid cat. 

Hang on, what is she doing now? Well, now really, she's almost on our side of the fence. Perhaps, not her as much as it is two of her four chins. Ugh, one of them's got a mole in it. You could live in that mole. 

"Evan, my goodness," she says. "I thought you were a nice girl." 

A nice girl? Does she not know who I am? Ha, that's a good one...I must tell Mum and Dad that one later... 

She continues to yell, then she calms down a bit, she says good morning and walks inside with her retarded cat. He hisses at me. That stupid, little git. I hope he gets lost in one of Mrs. Next Door chins. 

7:00 a.m. 

Saturday morning cartoons. What's gone wrong with them? It always used to be great, and now it's simply lost it's charm. To be truthful, it sucks. I wonder what will happen to them. Perhaps they will go into hiding. God, I wish I could go into hiding. Sadly, I'm still here, jammering on about Saturday morning cartoons. 

7:03 a.m. 

I must find something to do. Ooh, I want to play cricket with the stupid cat. That should be a real game, you know. I must tell Oliver. 

7:06 a.m. 

Dialing Oliver's phone number: 

Grunt. 

"Oliver, it's me," I say. 

Another grunt. 

"I want to play cricket with Mrs. Next Door's cat," I tell him. 

"Shove it up your ass, Ev," he says. 

"The cat?" I ask. 

He grunts in reply. 

"It was be rather unpleasant to be walking about with a cat up your ass," I say. 

"I don't bloody care!" he yells, and then he hangs up. 

That was my best friend. He's not a morning person.

7:07 a.m. 

There are thirty-three days until I return to Hogwarts. I wonder if I call Oliver again, he'll tell me to stick Hogwarts up my ass. 

My ass is a bit big, but I don't suppose Hogwarts would fit. Professor Flitwick probably would though. 

7:09 a.m. 

Well, in all my fifteen years of living I had said some pretty disgusting things, but that - by far - is the worst. A person up your bum? I'd rather see retarded cat humping one thousand trees than go through that. 

7:11 a.m. 

I've thought of something to do. I'm going to wax my legs. 

7:22 a.m. 

All right, I've chickened out, I'm just going to shave. 

7:39 a.m. 

This has to be the most uncomfortable position ever. My right leg is on the toilet, my left leg is on the sink, and here I am, shaving away. 

7:45 a.m. 

Funny story, I shaved yesterday. I now have cuts on my legs everywhere. Hmm, at least my legs are silky smooth. 

7:56 a.m. 

I look ridiculous. I have _SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aids covering 3/4 of my legs. _

First with the gigantic knickers, now this. They might as well call me Mrs. Big Knickers With Blue Legs, because that's what they look like: blue. 

8:09 a.m. 

Dad's finally up, he took one look at my legs and shrugged. Not surprising really, I do this kind of stuff all the time. 

I told him Mrs. Next Door called me, 'nice'. I knew it, Dad cracked up. 

10:56 a.m. 

The phone rung. I picked it up. It was Oliver. 

"Oh, I expect now you'll want me to stick the phone up my ass?" I ask. 

"Evan, you know I'm not a morning person." He says. 

"I know, but you could at least be considerate of your best friend." I say and then I hung up. I'm telling in three seconds the phone will ring. 

One...two...three... 

"Stop calling, Ollie!" I say. 

"Why Miss Parker, I didn't know you had a nickname for me." Uh oh. It's Dad's boss. I pass the phone to Dad without saying a word. 

4:56 p.m. 

Oliver called back four hours later. 

I refused to speak to him, and he said he would bring over _Dove _chocolates. I told him          

to leave it on the doorstep and leave. It turned out he was already outside talking on his mobile, and he had seen my big knickers and blue legs. 

5:09 p.m. 

Ah well, at least Oliver has taken a strong liking to my 'Cat Cricket' idea. We start tomorrow. 

Thanks for reading guys! I hope you enjoyed it! Please review! And this is a British story, I'm Australian, but I do know a fair few British words. Perhaps, I will explain the whole thing down here. 

This start is set around Harry's first year of Hogwarts, I'm pretty sure that was Wood's fifth year of Hogwarts, anyway, Evan, as you know, is his best friend. It's in the format of the _Georgia Nicolson _books, as you might know if you've read them. 

Anyway, so Evan and Oliver are best friends and are the fifth year, Harry, Ron, Hermione are starting Hogwarts, so there's going to be the whole 'Harry Potter coming to Hogwarts?' thing going on. 

I have one question for you guys. What year was Fred and George when Harry started Hogwarts? 

Please review!


	2. My Best Friend: The Annoying Twit

"Diary of a Crazy Person" 

Authors Note: I have decided not to pair Oliver and Evan. Maybe I might change my mind in the near future, but it doesn't look likely. I just like Oliver's character being used in fairly humorous situations, that is it. Ah...it all depends on what you guys think...anyway, on with chapter two...aw, hang on...

Disclaimer: I forgot to write on of these before. I do not own Harry Potter, Oliver Wood, or the basic idea of this story. That belongs to Louise Rennison. Harry Potter and Oliver Wood belong to J.K. Rowling. I own Evan, Mum, Dad, Mrs. Next Door, and the retarded, perverted cat. 

Chapter Two - My Best Friend, The Annoying Twit 

August 4th 

3:00 p.m. 

Sitting here listening to Oliver drone on about Quidditch. Not that I have anything against Quidditch, it just doesn't interest me that me. It is quite amusing though, to insult it, and see Oliver's face. It goes beet red. Te he. 

3:05 p.m. 

Now Oliver's is trying to convince me to join the House Team. 

"No," I say. 

"Why?" he asks. 

"Because I hate Quidditch," I tell him. 

"You can't say you hate it if you haven't tried it," he says. 

"Yes, I can," I say. "I hate Quidditch." 

Oliver's face starts to go red. "Evan, you know I don't like it when you do that." 

I decide to see how red his face can go. "I hate Quidditch! I hate Quidditch! Te he! Lucky me! For I have to pee! Oliver looks like he's about to kill me!" I sang, as I rushed off to the loo. 

3:07 p.m. 

He's standing outside the door. I'm trapped in my own lavatory. With Dad's porn magazines, and Mum's too. Lord, why did I get such wack jobs for parents? I always knew Dad was a bit of a perv, but Mum too? Oh dear God, she's drawn a large heart around the guy on the cover's face. She'll probably end up a porn queen, and she and Dad can get re-married at Hugh Hefner's place, and I'll move in as the porn princess, and I'll turn into one bloody, big pervert. 

3:09 p.m. 

I wonder if I should become a lesbian. They seem to have a lot less problems than I do. 

3:11 p.m. 

I've thought about it, and I definitely considering becoming a lesbian. But only by title, I won't grope any other females or anything like that. And I will continue to admire the gender opposite my own. 

3:14 p.m. 

Oh, fuck it. I can't become a lesbian. I'm not going to sleep with girls, or kiss them, so I've basically started a very nasty, and stupid rumor about myself, and that won't do. 

3:18 p.m. 

I've figured out a way to get rid of Oliver. 

"Oliver, I'm becoming a lesbian!" I call out. 

"Well, that's wonderful, honey." Mum's voice. Damn it! I've just told Mum I'm a lesbian. God, there's one living down the street; Mum will probably go tell her now. 

3:28 p.m. 

I'm going to kill Oliver Wood. 

3:45 p.m. 

He moved! The little bastard moved! 

"Out of common courtesy," he said to me. 

Out of common courtesy my ass! He knew I would say something embarrassing or strange to get him to move. I have hid in the bathroom seventeen times since he's known me, and on the eighteenth time, he had enough sense (on his part) to let someone else hear what I have to say. 

6:56 p.m. 

Oliver Wood is sleeping over. I'm going to kill him in his sleep. It wouldn't be too hard; I'm going to sit on him with my gigantic bottom. 

7:08 p.m. 

Actually, I'll be sitting on a pillow with my gigantic bottom in my gigantic knickers, and then on him. 

7:10 p.m. 

I will sit on his face. 

Midnight 

Damn. He's sleeping on his side. Ah, well, off to dream land. 

12:03 a.m. 

I will kill him. 

August 8th 

10:09 p.m. 

I cannot breathe. No, I'm not dying, I'm laughing too much. Retarded, perverted cat has done something good for once. 

He humped Oliver's legs. First the right, then the left. I don't think I have to kill him anyway, I think you can pretty much kill yourself after a spaz of a cat humps both of your legs. 

10:11 p.m. 

I have a name for the cat, Spaz. Wonderful, perfect, spiffing really. 

11:09 p.m. 

I wonder if Oliver will be homosexual since he's just had his first experience with a male. 

11:12 p.m. 

All right, so the male was a cat, but I've noticed our willow tree has been looking a little more feminine lately. 

Midnight 

Mum and Dad are porn king and queen. I'm a lesbian, and Oliver's gay. Oh, so is our willow tree. 

12:05 a.m. 

I've decided Mrs. Next Door has to be bi-sexual, she has a husband, but she an awful lot of tea parties, and she does choose windy days to have tea parties. Of course, the wind does not come until later, so all the ladies come in dresses, and then soon the wind blows them up, and Miss Bi-Sexual has a nice view of polka dot undies. 

12:07 a.m. 

Mum and Dad are porn king and queen. I am a lesbian, Oliver and the willow tree are gay, and Mrs. Next Door is bi-sexual. 

12:09 a.m. 

Oh, and her cat's a big perverted spaz. 

Thanks for reading guys! Please review! 


End file.
